


Place De Bastille

by DontOffendTheBees



Category: Deadpool (2016), Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb)
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet, Falling In Love, Inspired by a Movie, M/M, Romance, Terminal Illnesses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2016-08-16
Packaged: 2018-08-08 20:57:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7773109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DontOffendTheBees/pseuds/DontOffendTheBees
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which an ending only leads to further beginnings.</p><p>Bittersweet Spideypool mini fic, inspired by the short film Bastille from the movie Paris Je T'aime.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Peter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've never written any Spideypool before, so here's hoping this isn't too shmoopy and OOC. I'm hoping to write more of them in the future though, so I'd appreciate feedback!
> 
> We have a chapter from Peter's POV, one from Wade's, and then a mystery epilogue. (you can visualize whichever version of Spidey and Deads you like, but I was picturing Garfield and Reynolds when I wrote it).
> 
> Hope you enjoy ^^

He went to the restaurant that day to end it.

 

Peter Parker had grown old in his twenty-two years. His shoulders stooped under the weight of responsibility, of expectations. If he had but one aim that fateful day, it was to alleviate one of them.

 

That was when Wade Wilson entered, grinning ear to _fucking_ ear. Still wearing that atrocious old red hoodie, the one he always swore he would throw out. The one Peter himself had borrowed on more than one occasion, during happier times.

 

Their relationship had been stagnating for months now. As Peter’s own weight of responsibility grew, the boyish charms that had once drawn him to Wade Wilson began to grate on his nerves. No longer did the late night experiments with microwave chimichangas endear him to the man- all he saw was another mess that would need cleaning up in the morning. Wade was a man of actions, and Peter had grown tired of dealing with the consequences.

 

Peter raised his head as Wade sat across from him. If he was going to end this relationship, he was gonna do it right. Face to face, and eye to eye. He would look into those blue eyes he’d once been so in love with, and would remind himself of every little thing he’d grown to dislike about the man behind them. His inappropriate jokes, that fucking tuneless rendition of _Fergalicious_ he squawked through whenever he did the dishes.

 

His speech dried on his tongue when he saw the tears in Wade’s eyes.

 

Wade Wilson did not cry, especially not in public. A heavy weight settled in Peter’s chest as he realised he must _know_. He knew why Peter had asked him here, to this restaurant. The very same restaurant they’d been sitting in when Peter had realised he’d fallen out of love. A selfish part of him had been hoping that Wade would react childishly to his rejection, with shouting and a public scene, to further solidify in Peter’s mind the growing notion that they simply were not meant to be. Proof of the reason for their break-up. Tears were not part of his considerations.

 

That was when Wade handed him the letter.

 

There were official, scientific terms in there, nice long words in a cleanly printed font. Peter barely had to skim the message. The connotations were written loud and clear, pretty, detached words stating the simple matter of Wade’s terminal cancer.

 

The original purpose for their date flew from Peter’s mind.

 

He looked from the letter to the man before him. The man with whom he’d shared the last two years of his life. The man who had but months left to live.

 

And in that letter, he saw another responsibility.

 

He would go on to lean forward, and take Wade’s hand in his own. He would comfort him with all those empty platitudes- all the ‘we’ll fight this together’ he could muster, even though in his heart he knew there was no fight here. This battle was already lost.

 

But Wade had some way to go before the finish line.

 

It would be dishonourable, Peter told himself, to allow him to make that final sprint to the end on his own.

 

*

 

Peter took to the role whole-heartedly. He was never one to half-ass a job.

 

Over the following months he fell into an old routine he’d long considered a part of his past. He acted every inch the lovesick teen he once was, letting himself fall into old patterns of behaviour in Wade’s presence. Little things at first- Lucky Charms making it back into the cereal cupboard, tiny marshmallows decorating the hot cocoa. Every night he shuffled closer to Wade, until he began to doze off in front of Mythbusters re-runs with strong arms clasped lovingly round his shoulders. He seldom returned to his own bed after that.

 

Every familiar gesture inspired a twinge of something new in Peter’s stomach. A long-lost fondness, a feeling of satisfaction. A cold, quiet stab of loss.

 

Every action took on a new flavour. Any unremarkable motion could be the last.

 

This chimichanga could be the last Wade would ever eat. This could be the last ear-splitting Fergie rendition the world need ever witness.

 

Peter had his arms wrapped around Wade before he’d even reached the chorus.

 

The bittersweet truth lay in plain sight.

 

By pretending to be a man in love, Peter had become a man in love again.

 

That night he cried into the small hours of the morning, every reassuring stroke Wade drew across his back another shot to his heart, a gentle reminder that nothing could last. No man could live forever, and some men were doomed to die sooner than others.

 

Against his better judgement, he’d let one such man run away with his heart all over again.

 

And run away with it he did.

 

*

 

When Wade left, Peter couldn't even bring himself to be angry.

 

The possible reasons for Wade’s abrupt departure were as numerous as they were painful. Perhaps he had simply been trying to spare Peter the pain of watching him slowly wither and die. Maybe he'd decided there were other places he wanted to be, other people he wanted to spend his final days with.

 

Either way, he was gone. And when he left he took a piece of Peter with him.

 

Though in the years that followed Peter did his best to return to life as normal, he was forever changed. He tried to tell himself it was a good thing- better to have loved and lost, and all that crap Aunt May used to say.

 

But to this day, his heart still lurches at the sight of a man in a red hoodie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wade next- later guys! X


	2. Wade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two- basically chapter one from Wade's POV. I never said this was gonna be plotty.
> 
> Hope you like (by which I mean hate, obvs- if it makes you sad I've done a good job)

He went to the restaurant that day to end it.

 

Wade Wilson had made every effort to _avoid_ growing up in his thirty years. But a guy could only escape the inevitable so long, and his latest wake-up call was a hard one to ignore. And maybe, just maybe, it would be the proverbial last straw on his favourite camel’s adorable back.

 

When he saw said adorable camel, AKA Peter fucking Parker, he almost chickened out right then and there. He saw him looking at his old red hoodie in that familiar distasteful way of his, despite having pilfered the damn thing on more than one occasion.

 

Peter didn’t love him. Maybe he did once, but not anymore. He could see it in his eyes, hear it in his voice, read it in every laboured motion of his overworked body. Wade wanted to be bitter about it, but truthfully, he had to give the kid kudos just for holding on this long. Had he been in Peter’s shoes, he sure would have dumped him by now. Being a fine piece of ass and creator of the best chimichangas in the city didn’t change the fact that he was a morally-skewed mercenary man-child. If he had even a shred of decency in his body he would have ended things with Peter long ago to save him the trouble.

 

Better late than never, huh?

 

He sat down across from Peter, who had his eyes rather noticeably turned downward. Wade opened his mouth to speak, only to feel the words dry up on his tongue. He hadn’t thought this far ahead. He’d thought about telling some broad faced lie- something mean and utterly untruthful, so Peter could get up and ditch him guilt-free. He’d thought about digging deeper, coaxing the younger man into confessing what Wade already knew to be true, hearing those final damning words from his own lips. And then, of course, there was the _truth_.

 

Peter looked up at him with a speech on the tip of his tongue, but fell silent when he looked at Wade’s face. For a second Wade thought he must be reading his mind- could he hear Wade’s internal rolodex of flaws, ready and waiting should Peter need reminding of all the reasons to dump him? Could he feel the question on his mind? Was he just as scared in this moment as Wade was?

 

Then he felt the hot trail of a tear down his cheek, and knew what had really caught Peter’s attention.

 

Now crying was one thing. As an emotion-feeling human male, Wade had sure cried a few times in his life, no shame in that. Crying in public, out of the blue, in front of the beautiful young man about to publicly dump his ass, however, was something else entirely. It also meant an outright lie was officially out of the question. And so, Wade did something he found himself doing with alarming frequency around Peter Parker. He was honest.

 

That’s when he gave him the letter.

 

Wade had barely understood half of it, honestly. Peter wouldn’t have the same trouble- he was a smart cookie. A skim of the letter and he’d know the truth- that Wade was officially a dead man walking.

 

And that would be the end of it. He would accept any excuse Peter wanted to give him for breaking up, he really would. He wouldn’t want a cancer-riddled old man, either. Better Peter get out now before this all became a big thing.

 

His heart leapt into his throat when Peter took his hand.

 

Wade looked into his dark brown eyes and for a moment he glimpsed just a trace of the warmth they’d once held for him, that same quiet affection he’d once mistook for love.

 

In that moment, with the tears still flowing and Peter’s warm hand encasing his own, he realised Peter wasn’t leaving.

 

He wanted to feel guilty.

 

This didn’t fix anything. Peter wasn’t in love with him. Probably never had been. But love-struck or not, he was a good kid. Too good. Wade should have known he wouldn’t take the out. Would see this damn illness as another task, another responsibility. If Wade was half the man Peter was, he would revert to Plan A- break this whole thing off himself. Be rude, be spiteful, make sure Peter ran away and never looked back.

 

Wade had never once claimed to be a good man.

 

*

 

Peter was a damn good actor, he'd give him that.

 

Even though he knew it was an act, he had never felt more cared for than he did in those final months. Peter started letting things slide- allowing the calorific cereals back in the cupboard, heaping hot chocolates with those little marshmallows he'd claimed to have grown out of. One night instead of going to bed he'd fallen asleep in Wade’s arms, and continued the trend for weeks to come.

 

Every familiar gesture set off the butterflies in his stomach. Memories of an easier time, when they were both young (well, young _er)_ and dumb and in love, when all these little gestures were commonplace.

 

With every day that passed, Wade grew to regret not making Peter leave when he had the chance.

 

Living as they were now, rediscovering old habits, enjoying each other's company as they hadn't for a long time, Wade couldn’t handle the knowledge that any embrace could be their last.

 

He hadn't planned to become so attached. He'd expected to be out of this by now, the good times they'd shared tainted by the memory of a horrible break-up. But here they were, stronger now than they had been in years. And the only thought allowed in Wade’s head was how very, very temporary it all was. He sang and squawked his way through Fergie’s greatest hits in vain attempts to distract himself. Peter always yelled at him when he did that.

 

But then one day Peter came up behind him, wrapped his arms around him so tenderly, and what remained of Wade’s jaded old heart shattered.

 

That night he held Peter while he cried. He held it together for him, but all he really wanted was to burst into anguished tears of his own.

 

He should have left when he'd had the chance. Should have got out when he was still fairly sure that Peter hated his guts. But he just had to milk it for all it was worth

 

Had to make himself fall even deeper into love with Peter Parker.

 

And, if he wasn’t entirely mistaken, he’d dragged the poor man down with him.

 

The damage was already done, but… maybe there was one last thing he could do for Peter.

 

*

 

It tore Wade’s heart to shreds to leave him.

 

He left a note. It contained about five hundred words but said absolutely nothing. In the end, predictably enough, he couldn’t get the right words out when it mattered. He hoped Peter would understand why he had to do it. He’d done enough damage sticking around as long as he did, pulling them both deeper into something that could never last. He couldn’t bear it if Peter had to watch him shrivel up to a husk and die. He wanted someone to remember him with a degree of fondness.

 

And so he left the only home he’d ever known. For both their sakes’.

 

He set out to spend his remaining weeks in solitude. He wished it didn’t hurt as much as it did. But perhaps the pain was a good thing. A few years ago he probably wouldn’t have cared, but now… you had to have done something right with your life if you didn’t want it to end, right? Something good. Something worth living for. Even if that something was the very reason you had to leave. He tried to tell himself Peter would understand. Might even be thanking him, wherever he was, for finally doing the right thing.

 

But even now, his heart lurches at the sight of a man in a red hoodie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll post the epilogue tomorrow before I leave for home ^^
> 
> Hope you liked- if so, please do say! I devour your feedback like Wade devours chimichangas.


	3. Paris

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter- short but sweet (hopefully)!
> 
> Hope you like ^^

This very morning, our story draws to a close in Place De Bastille.

 

Paris has become an old, old city, memories lurking like ghosts in the very walls. Over the years it has been home to countless stories, fresh starts and fateful ends alike. But still the city stands, waits. Watches.

 

And on this particular morning, the sleepy city watches in quiet curiosity as two men in red converge. Old though the city may be, athletic men in red spandex leaping from roof to roof were an uncommon sight, to say the least.

 

They meet completely by chance, having come for completely different reasons. One on a mission of mercy, one on a darker quest. One motivated by responsibility, the other by self-interest, but both somehow finding themselves on the same street at the same minute. Both masked, both on a mission.

 

And both given pause by the sight of a man in a red hood.

 

Paris had borne witness to many a story. Stories of friendship, family, bitterness and betrayal. Every story had a beginning, and inevitably, an end. But sometimes beginnings came in disguise, and sometimes endings weren’t altogether final.

 

And if there’s one thing Paris is no stranger to, it’s a love story.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, that's that.
> 
> So yeah this is based on the short film Bastille from Paris Je T'aime. Bit hit and miss as a movie, as is the risk with these anthology types, but that particular story always gets me :3 If you're into sappy romance, silly French humour and crying, I'd give it a watch.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed my little dip into Spideypool! I'm hoping to come back to them sometime- but the only other thing I have planned so far is a fricken' behemoth of a Groundhog Day AU that it'll take me fifty years to write, so... don't hold your breath I guess. :/
> 
> Thank you so much! <3


End file.
